Finally, her eyelids no longer felt so heavy. This probably meant the introductory cutscene had finished loading, and players could now move freely.
Bai Ci slowly opened her eyes and raised her head.
Following the line of her arm, she looked up and got a clear view of the person touching her head—the man who was presumably her father and also the king.
He was a middle-aged Western man. His neat blonde hair had lost most of its luster, fading to a dry white. His eye sockets were deeply sunken, and his emerald-green eyes were filled with heavy exhaustion and a sickly gray haze.
His face was as pale as paper, his dry lips had a bluish tint, and his jawline was thin and gaunt.
A face truly chiseled like a knife, but unfortunately, it was only because he was so emaciated from illness.
His entire being exuded a terminal weakness, visible to the naked eye, as if a single gust of wind could blow him over.
Bai Ci felt that her perspective seemed a bit different from what she was used to. Was she... a bit shorter?
Sensing the gaze of the girl who had just fallen asleep crying by the bedside, the man forced his lips into a gentle smile and squeezed out a concerned question with great effort.
“Did I wake you, little Seyni?”
Bai Ci shook her head gently.
She didn't say anything, because she didn't know what she should say in this situation. She had received far too little information about her identity.
Based on those few lines from the introductory cutscene, she could only gather a limited amount of information.
For instance, her current name was Severnia, her status was likely a princess of some sort, and she was apparently about to ascend the throne.
Come to think of it, this was an instance with a Western-style setting, right?
In the West, they didn't seem to call becoming a monarch "ascending the throne." What was it called again? Bai Ci couldn't recall the exact term for a moment.
The person before her was the ruler of this empire, the father of her current body.
However, this wasn't enough to help her say much.
And besides, having her manage a country—were they serious?
She was just an ordinary DM who, at most, had managed a dozen or so players. Now she had to manage a country; it was a bit like forcing a duck to roost.
She would just find someone trustworthy and dump the management onto them.
Bai Ci made up her mind: if the instance really progressed to the point where she had to become queen, she would just play the role of Adou and leave everything to a reliable chancellor.
...
The Anomalous Infection system wouldn't be so psychopathic as to not leave the players a powerful backer, forcing them to handle everything on their own, right?
The king looked at her clear, quiet eyes—which were actually just dazed as her mind wandered—and all the tenderness in his eyes turned into bitterness and helplessness.
She was still just a child. Could she really bear the heavy burden of a country?
But he...
The king's chest rose and fell slightly, his breathing rapid and congested. Every breath carried an unmistakable wheezing sound, showing just how ruined his body was.
He remained silent for a long time before speaking again, his tone filled with reluctance. “I won't last much longer. The physician says... at most, I only have a month left.”
Midway through, his voice choked up, and countless emotions swirled in his eyes. A thousand words were stuck in his throat, overflowing with guilt and heartache.
He had so many things to pass on, so many hidden dangers to warn her about, so many heavy truths to tell.
But looking at the still-childish and quiet face before him, all the cruel political scheming and struggles remained bottled up in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to say them.
This was supposed to be an age for living a carefree and peaceful life.
Bai Ci thought to herself.
Here it comes.
The main quest of the new instance was coming.
A kingdom management simulator?
She composed herself, her expression softening and her tone becoming obedient. “Father, I will work hard and won't let you down.”
She would start with this kind of boilerplate response. This universally applicable answer wouldn't lead to any major blunders.
This considerate and sensible remark caused the king's eyes to instantly redden, and hot tears rolled down without warning.
“Silly child...”
He sighed softly, his voice shifting to exhaustion and self-reproach. His breathing grew increasingly erratic, and speaking became more and more of an effort.
“This... was never meant for you to bear.”
“You have been weak since birth. When you were born, you were as tiny and frail as a kitten. I specially sent you to the countryside to recuperate, hoping you would stay far from the court and grow up in peace.”
“But now, just as you've finally gained some color, you are being made to take over this... this heavy empire...”
He grew more agitated as he spoke, his chest heaving violently, his breathing shallow. His words were disjointed, accompanied by uncontrollable choking and gasps for air.
“Your brothers and sisters... their deaths were such a tragic waste...”
His remaining words were completely swallowed by his chaotic wheezing. His body swayed slightly, almost failing to keep its balance.
“Father!”
Bai Ci immediately stood up and reached out to support his frail shoulders.
The king was very light, and she supported him easily. The skin her palm brushed against was cold and stiff, and she could even feel the distinct outline of his bones.
Just as Bai Ci supported the king, their bodies drawing close from the movement, a folded piece of thin, rough paper silently slipped into her palm.
It slid from the king's palm, precisely and quietly passed to her under the cover of his body.
Bai Ci's mind stirred, but her face showed nothing, maintaining her worried, obedient posture of supporting him.
She curled her fingers, sliding the small piece of paper backward from her palm into her tight sleeve, leaving no trace.
The maid standing and waiting nearby seemed to finally be activated at this moment, quickly stepping forward to take over.
She held a bowl of dark brown decoction emitting warm medicinal steam, respectfully holding it to the king's lips to feed him.
As the medicine entered his mouth, the pungent herbal scent slowly suppressed the king's surging breath, stabilizing his erratic breathing slightly.
In exchange, the king's exhaustion grew even heavier, his eyelids struggling to stay open.
Once the king's condition eased slightly, the maid turned around, her gaze falling back onto Bai Ci.
The maid's expression was respectful, but her tone carried a faint hint of deliberate self-satisfaction, which she packaged as a presentable piece of advice.
“Your Highness, His Majesty is frail and has suffered too much mental strain. What he needs most right now is quiet rest. He should not overexert himself.”
“You have visited for long enough today. Why don't you return to your bedchamber to rest first, and come visit His Majesty again tomorrow?”
With that, regardless of how Bai Ci would react or whether she agreed, she raised her hand and clapped gently.
“Mia,” the maid called out.
A slender, gentle-looking young maid immediately walked in from outside the hall.
The young maid's uniform was much simpler than that of the maid who had called her in, lacking any embroidered patterns, which made it look less respectable and carry less authority.
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